Nikki Giovanni. Quilting the Black-Eyed Pea: Poems and Not Quite Poems.

Nikki Giovanni. Quilting the Black-Eyed Pea: Poems and Not Quite Poems. New York: Morrow, 2002. 122 pp. $16.95.

Nikki Giovanni's magnificent poetic voice sings like a choir wearing new robes in her new book Quilting the Black-Eyed Pea. She gives us a history of the world, but not before transporting us into the future by probing the unexplored. Beginning with "Quilting the Black Eyed-Pea (We're Going to Mars)," which is as exquisite as it is haunting, we are reminded why the American Dream is too often an American nightmare for Black Americans. The music of Billie Holiday, Aretha Franklin, Charlie Parker, and the spirituals gave us survival skills, which is what we'll need in space. She draws a plausible parallel between going to Mars and the Middle Passage: "I say, the trip to Mars can only be understood through Black Americans. The people who were captured and enslaved immediately recognized the men who chained and whipped them and herded them into ships so tightly packed there was no room to turn ... no privacy to respect ... no tears to fall without landing on another."

One of the major strengths of this incredible collection is its impressive and ironic handling of major events that have shaped America. In "Desperate Acts (For 9-11)," with a surreal, breathless calm, Giovanni questions why angry men commit desperate acts. But in "He Blew It," she takes a bolder stance on the politics of America, including our leader. And it hits in all the right places.

Throughout this glorious book, we revisit important figures like James Baldwin, Gwendolyn Brooks, Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, and Emmett Till. But she also sings the praises of many ordinary folks who have touched her life. "Ann's Poems (for Ann Weinstein)" left me feeling like a favorite aunt was gently patting me on the back, urging me on to all that I never dreamed I could be. "This poem is for Ann so it has to be beautiful, it has to be strong, it has to endure. This is Ann's Poem so it is full of love, full of love, full of love."

Nikki Giovanni raises deep moral questions by showing the fragility of life with her own illness, and by reaching out to others who are/were dying, including letters to Susan Smith, the white woman who drowned her children and claimed a black man had hijacked her car. Her letter to Emerson Edward Rudd prior to his execution on November 15, 2001, in Texas for the armed robbery and murder of a restaurant manager is nothing less than heart-wrenching. But her compassion extends to all forms of life. Her splendid symphony sings a more serene song as she goes about her daily routines but finds time to embrace animals and nature.

As a club tennis player and an avid tennis fan, I was excited to hear Richard Williams, father of tennis greats Serena and Venus Williams, referred to as a brave and brilliant black man. "Twenty Reasons to Love Richard Williams" is as honest as it is ... well ... honest. Reason number 3 is that "he makes the white folks crazy," and reason number 20 is that "he makes the white folks crazy (PS and the black bourgeoisie, too)." But it is reason number 7, "He cried at Indian Wells," that touched me, for I watched that tennis match between Serena Williams and Kim Clijsters of Belgium in Indian Wells, California. When Clijsters won the first set, the audience gave her a standing ovation. Richard Williams didn't cry alone. "So this is a poem for the man who made the world see through his eyes how beautiful Black is."

Just as food is deeply rooted in our culture, so is this sumptuous collection. The offering of food is the teaching and practice of family and feeling. Food is about tolerance and how we relate to each other, and, therefore, how we relate to ourselves. In this book, Nikki Giovanni offers us the most ancient form of comfort.

"What We Miss: A Eulogy" and "The Girls in the Circle" gave a rememory of my girlhood, the one known to "colored girls of the South," where Evening in Paris cologne lingered in the air, laced with the sweet scent of Dixie Peach hairdressing and Sweetheart soap. And the indignities we endured count, too. They helped to make us strong. "What we accept: The love the challenge of hope they offered ... the necessity to remember ... the vision to follow in their footsteps while blazing new trails."

No other writer can give us grief, sarcasm, anger, and humor, and wrap it with love. Nikki Giovanni has always given us gifts, but this time she has given us a stunning gift for the new year.

Ethel Morgan Smith

West Virginia University